


Taken by Storm

by Vizkopa



Category: One Piece
Genre: Adventure, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Romance, Slow Build, So much angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 07:36:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3561527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vizkopa/pseuds/Vizkopa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>A young woman is found adrift on the open sea, her crew dead, her ship and captain missing. Saved from near death by the Straw Hat Pirates, they agree to help in the search for her lost captain. But she may not like what she finds...</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Girl With the Midnight Eyes

A shrill voice invaded Zoro’s dreams and he furrowed his brow in annoyance. There was only one person who could pull him back into the waking world with such immediacy. 

“Idiot love-cook,” he growled under his breath, lifting an eyelid to shoot a death glare at the fawning blond. Yawning widely, Zoro stretched out his stiff joints, groaning as each one offered a satisfying pop. He had slept longer than intended and the sun was already well on its way into the western sky. 

_Now I’m awake, might as well get in some training_ , he thought with a shrug and made his way across the deck. A speck of black against the blue waves caught his eye and stopped him in his tracks. In the distance, but drawing ever nearer was a piece of wreckage, not at all uncommon on the Grand Line. But just as he was about to turn away, he spotted a figure, clearly unconscious and clutching desperately at the makeshift raft. He opened his mouth, a call already forming in his throat, but a voice from far above beat him to the punch.

“O-oi!” called Usopp, his voice quaking ever so slightly. “There’s someone in the water!” As he spoke the words

But Zoro was already striding forward, kicking off his boots as he went, laying his katana carefully aside. By the time he reached the railing he was almost at a run, not hesitating to dive into the icy water below. He heard a splash behind him as he surfaced and knew Sanji had followed, the cook’s powerful legs bringing him swiftly to the surface beside Zoro.

“I don’t see them,” Sanji growled, flicking his wet hair from his eyes. 

Zoro said nothing, treading water as he scanned the endless blue for any sign of the mysterious figure. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed movement and turned just in time to see a single hand as it slipped beneath the surface. He took off at an alarming pace, stopping for only a moment to draw a deep breath before plunging below the waves.

The salt water stung his eyes, but he forced them open, squinting as he peered into the gloomy depths. Nothing. He kicked out in the direction he had seen the hand, his strong arms pulling him swiftly through the pressing weight of the water. He did not make it far before his need for oxygen forced him to return to the surface. Sanji surfaced a few meters away, shaking his head.

Cursing, Zoro took another breath before submerging. This time he spotted a body to his left, slowly sinking, a deep red stream winding its way to the surface amongst the bubbles. It was a young woman, perhaps around his age, and she appeared to be badly wounded.

Ignoring the burning in his lungs, he struck out toward the sinking figure, looping one strong arm around her torso before making a beeline for open air. He inhaled sharply as he broke the surface, blinking the water from his eyes. He glanced down at the girl. Her pale hair was plastered to her scalp and her eyes were closed. He could not tell if she was breathing. Cursing, he set a course back to the Sunny, dragging her through the water in his wake. He only hoped the trail of blood that followed would go unnoticed by the sea kings that lurked in the depths.

As he approached the ship, Zoro felt movement and glanced down to find the girl had opened her eyes. _Good_ , he thought, _at least she’s not dead_. Though if he did not hurry back to the ship, he knew she would be soon. Her gaze was unfocused and she seemed to be struggling to stay conscious, her breath coming in short shuddering gasps. The water around them was tinged pink.

All of a sudden, her vision seemed to clear and her eyes snapped wide. She uttered an incoherent cry and kicked out, thrashing to escape the grip of the stranger who held her. Zoro’s grip tightened about her waist and he felt a sting of guilt as she winced in pain. 

_Broken ribs_ , he thought. That did not deter her though, and he cringed as her nails raked his arm. They went under momentarily and salt water flooded Zoro’s mouth. 

“Oi, oi!” he spluttered as he struggled to keep them both afloat. “I’m trying to help you here!”

At his words, her struggling intensified and he could feel them both beginning to slip below the waves.

“Stop your struggling or we’ll both drown. Or would you rather I leave you to the sea kings?”

That got her attention. 

She glared at him and for a moment he almost lost himself in her eyes. They were the colour of the midnight sky, a blue so dark it was almost black. Against his will, he felt his cheeks flush with heat and his heart rate quicken. _Beautiful…_

“Oi, marimo, up here!” Zoro did not even have time for a retort before he and the girl were pulled from the water by multiple pairs of arms. They were hauled unceremoniously onto the deck, drenched and shivering. The girl had fallen unconscious again, her lips blue and trembling with cold.

“Get her to the infirmary,” Chopper piped up, his tone urgent.

“Let me,” said Sanji.

And before he knew it, the girl was lifted from Zoro’s arms and whisked away. The rest of the crew followed out of curiosity and concern, and he was left alone on the deck, and wondering what the hell had just come over him. A roll of thunder sounded in the distance, an accompaniment to the thundering of his heart. He scowled.

“Looks like we’re in for a storm.”


	2. Amaya the Storm

Amaya drifted in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware of a dull pain in her side and a pounding in her head. She could hear the low drone of voices nearby, but when she tried to decipher what was being said, it only made her head spin and throb painfully. She had no idea where she was or how she had gotten there, and yet here she was – alive despite all odds.

The surface beneath her was soft and warm, and beckoned her back into the sweet abyss of sleep, but she would not let it take her – not until she had some answers. Her mind moved sluggishly as she tried to piece together her thoughts, her memories of the events that had led to that moment. There had been so much pain, and biting cold, and then the warm arms of a man she had never met, yet whose intense gaze and odd green hair had followed her into her dreams. Someone had found her – that much she knew. The question was whether it had been friend or foe.

She let out a groan and the voices ceased, and she heard the pitter-patter of small feet and the longer stride of another as they approached her bedside. With immense effort, she forced her eyes open, but the best she could manage was a squint, which left the figures that loomed over her ominously out of focus.

“You’re awake! How are you feeling?” 

The voice was high pitched, like that of a child. It seemed to pierce the veil of sleep that suffocated her and she found herself able to lift herself into a half-sitting position. She winced as her side twinged.

“Hurts,” she growled. “But I’ve had worse.” Then she blinked as her eyes focused on the two strangers. 

The smaller, the one who had spoken, caught her attention first. _Ta…nuki?_. Amaya was well aware that she was staring, but the creature merely stared back with a look of concern. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyelids, wondering if she was still dreaming. When she opened them again, however, the creature was still there. 

“What- er… _who_ are you?” Amaya asked tentatively.

It was the second stranger who answered. Amaya had forgotten his presence until that point and hastily moved to cover herself with the sheets, but realised there was no cause for concern. She was naked from the waist up, but her torso had been neatly and thoroughly bound in fresh white bandages.

“You’re aboard the Thousand Sunny. This is Doctor Tony Tony Chopper of the Straw Hat Pirates. And as for me, you can call me _Mister Prince!~_ ” He took Amaya’s hand and looked into her eyes. “And who might you be, mysterious beauty from the sea?”

She eyed him warily before replying. “Amaya,” she said bluntly.

“What a fitting name for such a stunning siren! Are you hungry, Amaya-chan?”

_Amaya-chan!?_

She thought for a moment. “Now that you mention it…”

His face lit up. “Then I shall make you a feast fit for a goddess of the sea!” He rushed from the room, leaving Amaya stunned in his wake. She turned back to the creature ( _Chopper?_ ), her bewilderment evident on her face.

He chuckled. “That’s Sanji, our cook.” Then his expression became more serious. “It’s lucky we found you. Your wounds aren’t extensive, but any longer and you would have bled out. What happened to you?”

Amaya looked down at her hands. They were trembling slightly but she could not discern the reason. Her mind was a blank. “I… don’t remember… How long have I been out?”

“No more than a day. It looks like you were shot. One bullet grazed your side and cracked some ribs, the second I had to extract from your stomach. You’re lucky it didn’t hit any major organs.” As he spoke, Chopper performed a routine check-up, taking her temperature and blood pressure, shining a bright light into her eyes that made her head throb painfully. Seemingly satisfied with the results, he backed off and returned his instruments to their rightful places. “You’ll have to take it easy for a few weeks or you’ll tear your stitches.”

Amaya peered down at her side to examine the damage, gingerly fingering the places where blood had already begun to seep through the bandages. She winced as her fingers came in contact with the delicate flesh. “It seems I was lucky to have been rescued by a skilled doctor.”

“Shut up, your praise doesn’t make me happy at all, you asshole!” cried the creature, though his expression was one of pure, unbridled glee. “It wasn’t me who rescued you though. You should thank Zoro for that.”

_Zoro?_

“Let’s go meet the others. Can you walk?”

“I think so…”

She shakily got to her feet and after she was sure she would not collapse, began reaching for her boots that sat by the end of the bed. She gritted her teeth against the pain as she pulled them on, then cast her eyes around for something to cover her torso. They fell on a red hoodie, neatly folded on the bedside table. She threw it around her shoulders, gingerly sliding her arms into the sleeves and zipping it closed.

Ready, Amaya nodded to Chopper to lead the way, but before she could take a step she realised something was wrong. Something was… missing. She reached for her thigh to feel the familiar touch of steel against her fingers, but they only met thin air. She froze mid step.

“Where are my weapons?”

Chopper paused and smiled sheepishly. “We thought it would be best if we took them away, at least until we knew you weren’t a Marine… You’re not a Marine are you?”

She shook her head.

“Well I’m sure Usopp would be happy to give them back to you once he’s done examining them. He said he’s never seen anything like them before.”

Amaya narrowed her eyes. She did not know who this ‘Usopp’ was, but if he had messed with her weapons in any way, he would suffer a world of pain. 

She could hear the murmur of voices from behind a door at the end of the room and strode forward with a purpose, ignoring the insistent pain in her side as her stitches stretched. She practically kicked the door down onto what appeared to be a kitchen and dining area, and glared daggers at those behind it. Conversation had ceased entirely as all eyes turned on her.

“Which one of you… has my weapons?” she said, her voice dangerously calm.

She heard a shriek of fright from her left and her head shot around to fix her eyes on the culprit. A man with an absurdly long nose quailed under her glare.

“S-sorry! I just wanted to take a look!” He pulled out a pair of holsters containing a dozen steel spikes each and thrust them at Amaya. “You seemed to have lost some so I made some new ones to replace them. I hope you don’t mind. They’re some sort of projectile, right?”

Amaya paused, taken aback. “T-thank you… And yes, bo-shuriken.” She took the weapons from his outstretched hands and strapped then around her thighs. She sighed happily when she felt their familiar weight once more.

The man seemed fascinated. “You have to show me how they work!”

“Uh… sure.”

When she looked up, she found herself suddenly face to face with a man in a straw hat. He looked her over, squinting suspiciously.

“You a Marine?”

“No, I’m a pirate,” Amaya replied.

His face broke out in a wide grin and he chuckled. “We’re all good then!” He pulled himself up to his full height and puffed out his chest. “I’m Monkey D. Luffy and I’m gonna be king of the pirates! And this is my crew!” 

Amaya’s gaze went around the table as the rest of the crew introduced themselves. 

“Usopp, sniper!”

“Nami, the navigator!”

“Franky, _supeeer_ shipwright!”

“Robin, archaeologist. Nice to meet you.”

“And of course you’ve already met our doctor, Chopper, and our cook, Sanji.”

Amaya’s head pounded with the sudden surge of information, but she smiled and nodded politely. Absently, she noticed a certain green-haired man was missing. As she wondered when she would get to thank her rescuer, she realised the Straw Hat Pirates were looking at her expectantly.

“Oh, I’m-”

“Amaya the Storm, first mate of the Red Rain Pirates. Bounty: 25, 000, 000 beli.” 

Everyone’s heads turned at the sound of the voice. In the doorway stood a man with green hair, arms crossed and three katana glinting dangerously on his hip. His mouth was set in a hard line.

“Where’s the rest of your crew?”

Amaya though for a moment but it only made her head spin. “I… don’t know…”

“Oi, moss-head, how do you know all this?” Sanji asked suspiciously from the kitchen.

Zoro grunted. “I remember seeing her wanted poster back when I was a bounty hunter.”

Sanji turned to Amaya. “You really don’t remember, Amaya-chan?”

“No, I…” She fell heavily into a seat at the table, cradling her head in her hands. “It hurts too much to think. I-” She was aware that all eyes were on her, some curious, some concerned… and some impatient.

“Well, if it hurts to think, don’t think. Oi, Sanji, let’s eat!” Luffy chuckled.

“You would know a thing or two about not thinking,” Nami muttered. 

Amaya gave a small smile, hidden behind her hands, and silently thanked whatever god had steered her into the hands of such good people. She needed to find her crew, but she knew she would never be able to help them in her current state. She had to focus on making a full recovery. She only hoped that when she did, it would not be too late.

And so she accepted the food offered to her with a smile and a “thank you” and watched in awe as the Straw Hats dug in, in Luffy’s case _very_ enthusiastically. She looked down at her plate. The meal looked and smelled incredible and her stomach grumbled impatiently. Beside her, Usopp leaned in close, his voice low.

“I’d keep both eyes on your plate if I were you,” he said and, as if to prove a point, a cry of pain punctuated his words. 

From the corner of her eye, Amaya caught the retreating hand and sulky expression of the captain. She chuckled. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

She speared a piece of the tender meat on her fork and brought it to her lips. It smelled heavenly and her mouth watered in anticipation. She ate slowly at first, but soon gained momentum as her body made its appetite known. It was delicious, as expected, but there was also something so familiar about the taste. She paused to think. Her cook used this meat often in his cooking. Sea king meat, she identified.

_Jasper._

She dropped her fork, her hand raised to her mouth to muffle a sudden sob. The clamour around her died.

_Jasper, cook to the Red Rain Pirates, stood between Amaya and a faceless enemy. She was wounded, clutching at the ship’s rail as she struggled to stay conscious. Jasper had his knives raised, ready to strike, but he made the grave mistake of looking back. It was a mistake that cost him his life._

_Before her eyes, her cook was struck down, his blood joining the others’ on the already red-slicked deck. She felt her stomach lurch as his head rolled sickeningly across the planks to rest at her feet and she had to fight not to lose her breakfast._

_The enemy was drawing closer and Amaya fumbled for her bo-shuriken, but the blood on her hands made it impossible to grasp the thin steel rods and they clattered uselessly to the ground. She swore and cast her eyes around for a sword. Her gaze fell on Jasper’s knives, still clutched tightly in his fists. The enemy saw where her gaze was directed, and lunged at the same time she did, but with a cry of pain, he fell to the ground, motionless._

_“Amaya!”_

_Amaya almost sobbed with relief as she spotted the broad shoulders and ginger head of her captain, his arm still outstretched in knife-throwing position. “Roland!” She reached out to him and he grasped her hand tightly._

_“Amaya, you need to get out of here.”_

_“What? No, I’m not leaving you guys here to fight them alone!”_

_“I’m not giving you a choice, Maya! Go. That’s an order.”_

_“But-”_

_“Are you disobeying your captain’s orders? Get the fuck out of here!”_

_Clutching her bleeding side, tears leaving track marks in the blood and grime that caked her cheeks, she watched as he drew his twin sabres and threw himself into the fray. She backed up against the rail, trying to calm her breathing for what she knew lay ahead. Just before she turned to dive into the icy sea below, she saw a sight that made her heart ache._

_Roland was far outnumbered._

The Straw Hats listened to her story with grim faces. When she finished she grew quiet, silent sobs wracking her body. No one spoke for a long time, then Luffy rose to his feet.

“Amaya… We’ll help you find your crew. And we’ll help you get your captain back.” The rest of the crew nodded in unison, faces set in determination.

Amaya looked around at them all, tears welling up in her eyes and streaming down her face.

“Thank you.”


	3. The Straw Hats

Rain pattered against the glass pane and Amaya sighed. She had wanted to sit up in the crow’s nest and watch the storm from there, but Chopper had forbidden her to leave the medical bay for the rest of the day. She’d had enough excitement for one day, he had decided, and he simply could not risk letting her get her stitches wet. If he were anyone else, she would have disregarded his words and gone anyway, but she had taken a liking to the little doctor, and so begrudgingly stayed in bed, opting to watch the rain from the far too tiny porthole in the wall by her pillow instead.

She looked down at the crumpled pieces of paper scattered across the sheets. For the last few hours she had been attempting to draw her attackers, but her memory was still hazy and she could not seem to get the faces right. With a groan of frustration, she tore out yet another page and crumpled it, tossing it over her shoulder and starting again.

“Does Nami know what you’re doing to her notebooks?”

Amaya jumped violently and winced as she felt her stitches stretch uncomfortably. She turned around to glare at the intruder. Her gaze softened, however, when Robin entered, a cup of steaming tea in her hand.

Amaya sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s not me you’ll need to apologise to. But I’m sure Nami won’t mind. You’ve been through a lot after all.” said Robin, setting the tea down on the table by the bed and gesturing to it. “I thought you might have had enough of Sanji’s doting for one day, so I volunteered. He can be… overbearing to say the least.”

Amaya gave her a grateful smile before returning to scratching at the paper with her pen. But it wasn’t long before she let out a frustrated noise and threw the pen across the room, ignoring the twinge in her side as she did so. She fell back against the pillow, her forearm draped over her eyes.

“It’s just like there’s a wall in my head and behind that wall are the faces of the men that killed my crew. If I could just get past it…”

Robin smiled down at her. “Perhaps it’s for the best. Our minds often repress memories of things we find traumatic, and for good reason. You should be focusing on healing right now.”

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t force anything, right? It’s just… while I’m sitting here recuperating, those bastards are getting further away and I can’t…” She choked back a sob, clenching her teeth. She’d cried enough already. “I can’t do anything.”

Amaya felt a gentle hand on her arm.

“We all know what it’s like to lose someone close to us. In some way or another, that’s how we all ended up here together. Just know that you’re not alone in this.”

“I know. And I’m eternally grateful. Your captain is truly amazing,” Amaya said, a flicker of awe alight in her midnight eyes.

“That he is,” Robin chuckled. “It’s rare to find a man so selfless, it’s true. He has saved my life not once, but twice now. Perhaps more, in ways I don’t even know yet.” She smiled. “You can trust him, Amaya-san. We’ll find your crew and avenge them if necessary.”

Amaya felt the tears beginning to well up again, but she pushed them down. She bit her trembling lip to still it and gave Robin a curt nod, a grateful smile emerging on her face. Silence followed their exchange, comfortable, companionable. She watched Robin as the older woman scanned the half-finished drawings scattered over the duvet.

It was then Amaya noticed the fresh cuts, the blooming bruises that littered Robin’s skin, scars of the recent past. There were many scars amongst her new companions, she had noticed. She wanted to draw those scars, and narrate the stories behind them.

“You’ll have to tell me your story someday, Robin. Those eyes look they have much to tell.”

Robin looked at her, amused. “Someday, perhaps.” A far-off look entered her eyes, and for a moment Amaya saw just a hint of the sorrows the woman had endured. She had no doubt that if she looked into the eyes of each member of the crew, she would see the same thing.

After a moment, Robin seemed to snap out of her reverie. “Oh, your tea has grown cold.”

“It’s okay, I prefer coffee anyway.”

Robin smiled. “Me too.”

* * * * *

The storm had cleared by the evening and, with much convincing on her part, Chopper had surrendered and allowed Amaya to get in some fresh air before dinner. She had declined company, still mulling over the day’s events: her conversation with Robin, and what she had learned of the Straw Hats in those few short hours since she had awoken.

She learned that they were heading to Fishman Island from Water 7, the same path she and her crew had been sailing before the attack. She learned that their ship, the _Thousand Sunny_ was brand new, and that their newest addition to the crew, Franky, had helped build it. And she had learned from the morning paper she had snatched up from the dining room table (along with the crew’s updated wanted posters at which her eyes significantly widened), that just days earlier, the Straw Hats had laid siege to Enies Lobby.

She had heard rumours of a rookie pirate crew rising fast among the ranks. She’d soon realised her newfound companions were the subject of those rumours. She marvelled at their strength and teamwork, facing down CP9 and even a Buster Call for the sake of a crew member and coming out _alive_.

She looked up into the sky, at the stars that winked down at her and silently thanked anyone who would listen for bringing her to these people. If anyone had a chance of helping find and avenge her crew, it was them.

Movement in the crow’s nest caught her eye. Through the tower’s windows she could see Zoro, shirtless and hard at work, diligently swinging a weighted pole as if it was nothing. His skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, and even from where she was sitting, she could see the scar that wrapped his chest from shoulder to hip.

She watched, mesmerised for a while until she felt a presence behind her.

“Amaya-chan, dinner is ready,” said Sanji, his soft voice rousing her from her thoughts.

“I’ll be right in Sanji-san, thank you,” she replied, casting him a glance over her shoulder with a small smile.

“Alright,” he said, smiling back. He made to walk past her, but she stopped him.

“Sanji… What’s his story?” she asked hesitantly, nodding her head towards Zoro in the crow’s nest. Amaya had only known them for a few short hours, but it had quickly become clear to her that the mysterious swordsman trusted her the least of all. She had barely seen hide nor hair of him all day.

“Who, Zoro?” He shrugged. “We don’t really know. Something about wanting to be the greatest swordsman in the word. His words, not mine. My guess is he lost someone though. I mean, we all have.”

“You never asked?”

Sanji shook his head. “You could always ask him yourself. I’m not sure how much he’d tell you though. On this ship, what happened in your past… We don’t need to know. We take you for who you are now, not who you _were_.”

Amaya nodded. Something in his words echoed what someone had told her a long time ago…

Sanji sighed. “I suppose I should tell him dinner’s ready,” he grumbled. “OI, MARIMO, GET DOWN HERE OR THERE’LL BE NO FOOD LEFT. I’M NOT MAKING ANY MORE!” he bellowed.

Zoro shouted an unintelligible reply, and Amaya followed Sanji back inside, chuckling to herself.

At least her new companions weren’t boring.


	4. The Calm Before the Storm

After two days of ordered bed rest (and Sanji’s incredible cooking), Amaya’s strength was quickly returning. As reluctant as she had been to stay bound to that tiny hospital bed, she was grateful to the little reindeer for putting his foot (hoof?) down. After checking her wounds to ensure they were healing nicely, Chopper finally gave her free reign to wander the ship, though he stressed that she keep exercise to a minimum.

“No climbing!” he warned, seeing the way her eyes flickered toward the crow’s nest. “You’ll tear your stitches.”

She pouted, but reluctantly agreed. She had been waiting days for an opportunity to thank the green-haired swordsman for saving her life, but he seemed to spend most of his time either sleeping or training high out of reach in the crow’s nest. The only time he came anywhere near her was for meals, and even then, so much as making eye contact seemed like a battle. 

He mistrusted her; that much was clear. She’d just have to convince him otherwise.

If he ever even gave her the chance.

The rest of the crew, meanwhile, had been nothing but welcoming towards her. In just two days, she had already received three invitations to join the crew (which were becoming increasingly more insistent), multiple confessions of undying love, and she’d even managed to rack up a debt for using up all of Nami’s paper, the interest on which appeared to be rising at an alarming rate.

Everything was so overwhelming and as much as she loved the vibrant, lively crew, she longed for a moment of quiet solitude to really process the last few days. She now understood why Zoro spent most of his time in the crow’s nest. She just didn’t _gel_ with the Straw Hats. She knew it, and she suspected they knew it too. This was all temporary, so why drag it on longer than it needed to be? She would heal and she would find Roland and what was left of her crew, and she and the Straw Hats would part ways. It was how it had to be.

But without a pen and paper to keep her occupied, or the prospect of escaping to the crow’s nest, Amaya needed something, anything, to pass the time while she healed. In times like these, she would write in her journals to straighten out her thoughts, the words accompanied by tiny sketches in the margins. But her journals could be at the bottom of the sea by now for all she knew.

She sighed and sat down on the deck with her back against the railing, pulling a bo-shuriken from the holster on her thigh. She began twirling it around her fingers absent-mindedly, like she would a pen while she contemplated the next words to fill the pages of her journals. The weight of the dart was comforting in her hand, perfectly balanced. Usopp had done well to replicate it. Her old darts now looked old and dull in comparison to the newly forged points that shone with an eagerness for battle. Perhaps it was time to replace them all. She would have to talk to Usopp about making a full set. 

It was then she remembered she owed the sniper a demonstration. It would be something to do and she needed to talk to him anyway. The sniper had been somewhat nervous around her since her… _spirited_ entrance when they had first met. Perhaps now would be a good time to dispel that wariness towards her.

She found him in his workshop below deck, his back turned to the door and tinkering with something she couldn’t see. He hadn’t heard her yet—she had always been light on her feet—and she took the opportunity to inspect his workspace. 

The room was organised chaos. Tools and junk and paint supplies were bursting from their storage and overflowing onto the floor, and the walls were plastered with diagrams and blueprints with a large banner pinned above them that read “USOPP FACTORY”. On one of the papers was a red painted target. She grinned evilly. It was like he was inviting her to mess with him. And she wasn’t about to turn down an invitation. She lined up the shot, aimed and threw, the dart sailing clean over Usopp’s head and hitting the target neatly in the centre.

Usopp yelped and turned to find her leaning casually against the door jamb. He relaxed when he saw who it was, one hand clutching his restless heart.

“N-nice shot,” he offered weakly.

“Thanks,” she said, frowning at her target. “I was aiming for you though.” 

Usopp paled at her words and she laughed. 

“I’m kidding. Just wanted to get your attention”

“Well, you have it,” he said, eyeing her warily as she walked by him to extract the dart from the wall. “Any special reason?”

Amaya held up the bo-shuriken and smiled innocently. “Just thought you’d might like to know how these work.”

“Oh.” He wet his lips. “Sure!”

“But I’m bored. So let’s make things a little more interesting, shall we?”

His wariness had returned. “What exactly do you have in mind? ‘Cause if you need help with target practice, you’ve got the wrong—”

“You’re the sniper on this ship, right?” she interrupted, a grin beginning to spread across her face. She could feel the adrenaline already beginning to flow at the thought of a challenge. After being cooped up for so long, she welcomed it. “Let’s make it a competition.”

Usopp looked afraid for but a moment before the corner of his mouth quirked in a cocky grin. “You’re on! Prepare to witness the amazing skills of the Great Captain Usopp!”

Amaya snorted. “Over-confident much?”

He deflated a little. “Yeah, I’m kinda betting on your wounds being an obstacle, to be honest.”

“You underestimate me, Mr. Sniper.”

“That’s _Captain_ Sniper to you!”

“You have to earn it first.”

And he did, not at all to Amaya’s surprise. She was far from her best thanks to her injuries, and Usopp’s confidence in his abilities was not unfounded. But damned if she didn’t put up a good fight. She accepted her defeat graciously, and submitted to having to address Usopp as “Captain” for the rest of the day—at least until Luffy found out and put a stop to it.

Afterwards, she lay sprawled on the deck with Luffy, Chopper and Usopp, her sides aching with laughter. She had always loved storytelling, and the stories they told had put her in serious danger of tearing her stitches.

She told Chopper as much (in jest, of course), but of course the naïve little doctor took her for serious and further prohibited Amaya from laughing any more. A decision that prompted Luffy and Usopp to burst into another fit of laughter, and Amaya to follow soon after while Chopper looked on in dismay.

When their laughter had finally died down, Luffy spoke up.

“Maya?”

Her heart twinged at the nickname. Only Roland had ever called her that. “Yeah?”

“What’s your dream?”

She blushed and shook her head. “It’s silly, really. Nothing as grand as becoming King of the Pirates, or the Greatest Swordsman in the World.”

“I won’t laugh, I promise.”

“I… want to tell peoples’ stories. I want the world to hear their voices. But most of all, I want to be there when it happens, when they—whoever ‘they’ might be—find the One Piece. I want to be there to witness it so I can tell that story.”

“That’s not a silly dream at all,” Luffy said softly and Amaya felt a swell of affection for the strange young captain.  He grinned widely. “Just stick with us! ‘Cause I’m gonna be the Pirate King!”

Amaya laughed, unable to ignore Luffy’s contagious grin. “Not if my Roland gets there first,” she teased.

“Let him try!”

“Oi!” Zoro’s voice cut through the chatter and laughter and Amaya looked up to find his head peeking out of the crow’s nest, his gaze directed at her. “There’s a ship ahead.” 

Wordlessly, Usopp passed her a spyglass from his pocket and she rushed to the bow, bringing the glass to her eye before she had even stopped moving. There, in the distance, was a ship, just as Zoro had said. It appeared to be drifting into the wind, anchor up, sails flapping uselessly around its masts, but she could still see the Jolly Rodger flying proudly atop the mizzen—a skull with an eye patch surrounded by falling red rain.

Her chest ached at the memory of it being hoisted as Roland christened the brand new vessel. _The Scarlet Storm._

“I’ve found you,” she whispered under her breath. “At last.”


	5. A Thunder in the Distance

  
_I’ve found you at last!_

“Franky, bring us up beside it!”

Amaya barely registered Nami’s voice as Franky steered the Sunny to rest alongside the other ship. Before the gap between them had even fully closed, she vaulted over the railings and across the stretch of dark ocean below to a chorus of protests from the Straw Hats. They fell on deaf ears. She landed heavily on the deck of the _Scarlet Storm_ and rolled to absorb the force of the landing, wincing as pain shot through her side. She clutched her ribs and clenched her teeth, willing the pain away until it was just a dull throb. Vaguely, she registered something warm and wet against the palm of her hand, but she ignored that too.

She couldn’t falter. Not now.

Stumbling ever so slightly, but gaining strength with every passing second, she rose to her feet and looked upon the carnage that lay before her. Behind her, Amaya heard the heavy footfalls of the Straw Hats as they followed her onto the ship, and then heard them fall silent as they too were met with the terrible sight.

It was the smell that hit them first—the bitter miasma of decay, the copper tang of blood so strong they could almost taste it. Amaya stared with wide eyes, unable to look away from the neat line of bodies arranged side by side across the stained deck. There was something deliberate in the way they had been placed, as if someone had wanted her to see it.

“No,” she choked. “No, this can’t be happening.”

She felt a presence by her elbow, caught a flash of green in her peripheral, but the tears in her eyes blurred her view. Zoro hovered by her side uncertainly for a moment, then strode forward, a wary hand on the swords at his hip, to examine the bodies.

Amaya watched him, unable to move, unable to breath, and waited for him to confirm her fears. He looked up at her and shook his head.

She heard Sanji curse under his breath and felt his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, lurching forward on legs that suddenly refused to do her bidding. She couldn’t see Roland’s hulking form among the others. She had to be sure.

“Amaya-chan!” he called after her.

She ignored him. She fell to her knees beside the bodies—her crewmates, her _nakama_ —and fought back the bile rising in her throat as she looked into their cold eyes. She lingered only as long as she had to to confirm that her captain was not one of the dead, then she scrambled away just in time to retch over the side of the ship.

Wiping her mouth, Amaya turned back to the Straw Hats. Some of them were watching her with concern, the others could not take their eyes off the bodies, pale-faced and teary-eyed.

“Roland—my captain—isn’t here. He must have escaped, or they took him, or…” She couldn’t stop her voice from shaking.

Luffy stepped forward, his face grim. “We’ll find him, Maya.”

“Let’s search the rest of the ship,” said Sanji.

Amaya nodded gratefully to them both. 

The interior cabins were in shambles, clothes and books and other belongings scattered every which way across the floor. Drawers had been pulled out, cupboards emptied, even the beds had been upturned and the mattresses slit open, their contents coating everything like a blanket of snow.

“Someone was looking for something,” Zoro growled, hand moving to caress the hilt of his white katana.

“The question is: did they find it?” Sanji muttered in reply.

Nami turned to Amaya. “Do you have any idea what they were looking for?”

Amaya shook her head, not trusting her voice to speak. Instead, she gestured for the others to wait there and drew three bo-shuriken from their holster, clutching them tightly between her knuckles like claws. Poised ready for action, she moved cautiously into the last room—the one she had shared with the other women of the crew. 

Much like the rest of the ship, it was deserted and in complete disarray. Clothes had been strewn across the floor and furniture upended. In the corner by a bed, a trunk had been broken into, its padlock lying twisted and broken on the floor, and its contents—a series of handwritten journals—rifled through and tossed carelessly aside.

Simmering with rage, Amaya stalked over to the mess and knelt down to pick up a journal that laid open, face down on the floor. It had evidently been trampled underfoot, its spine broken and cover hanging loose. Several pages slipped out and fluttered noisily to the floor as she lifted it to examine the damage. Her eyes skimmed the words on a loose page and immediately filled with tears.

_Finally, I’ve found somewhere I belong._

She had cried while writing those words—she could still see the tear stains on the pages—and she cried now, clutching the book tightly to her chest. 

Someone cleared their throat at the door and Amaya looked up to find Zoro standing at the threshold. When he saw her red-rimmed eyes and the tear tracks on her cheeks, he seemed to panic, averting his gaze from her face and becoming suddenly very interested in a spot somewhere over her shoulder. 

“You might want to come out here,” he said. “We found someone. Alive, but not for much longer.”

She hurriedly wiped her tears and, journal still clutched tightly in her arms, followed him into the medical bay. It was the least ransacked of all the rooms, but a dark red pool coated the floor and bloody footprints indicated towards some sort of altercation in the room. Propped against a blood spattered wall was a man Amaya had never seen before.

He was badly injured and it had appeared he had tried (and failed) to patch himself up, in the process spilling suture needles, bandages and other paraphernalia onto the floor around him. He looked up at her as she entered the room and gave her a crooked grin. His front teeth had been knocked out and his lips were sticky and red.

“There you are, little mouse.” He paused briefly as a wet, hacking cough wracked his body and blood dribbled down his chin. “I knew you’d be back.”

The Straw Hats all looked to Amaya, bewilderment on their faces. She felt her blood begin to boil.

“We’ve been looking for you,” the man said. “You have something we want.”

“You mean…” Her voice was dangerously low. “All of this violence, all of this death… was to get to me?”

“ _Ding-ding-ding!_ Got it in one, kiddo. Your captain could have prevented it. Your crew could have just walked away if he hadn’t been so stubborn and handed you over. And, well, here we are.”

Amaya lunged forward, ignoring the cries from the Straw Hats, and pressed the sharp point of her bo-shuriken against the fragile skin of the man’s neck. He laughed.

“What have you done with him?” she hissed, pressing harder until a trickle of fresh blood joined the rest on his stained shirt collar.

He shrugged, a movement that only drove the point deeper into his neck and prompted more blood to flow. “They took him with them.”

“Why?”

He looked her dead in the eye and she saw the pain he was in. He probably couldn’t even feel the prick of her shuriken amongst the agony of his wounds.

“Bait,” he said simply and grinned.

Amaya gripped his lapel and slammed him back against the wall. The room was silent except for the man’s laboured breathing. She leaned in close, ignoring the smell of the man’s festering wounds. 

“Who do you work for?”

The man only laughed, though it sounded more like a gurgle. A trail of blood began to seep from the corner of his lips. She slammed him back against the wall again, harder this time. He kept laughing.

“ _WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?_ ”

His laughter faded away but an infuriating grin still split his face. His eyes were glazed over and his breathing uneven. 

“J… Joker,” he said. 

And then was dead.

Amaya let go of him with an exclamation of disgust and he slumped back against the wall. She didn’t recognise the name he had spoken. She couldn’t fathom what this ‘ _Joker_ ’ could want with her, with Roland.

She got to her feet and immediately stumbled, her vision fading fast. Sanji rushed to her side to hold her upright. The cigarette between his lips had burned down to almost nothing and he worried the stub between his teeth.

“Let’s get you back to the Sunny and then decide what to do, yeah?”

The others all murmured their agreement. 

The second her feet touched the deck of the Sunny, Chopper was rushing to her side.

“Your wound has opened, I _told_ you not to do anything stupid like that!”

“I’m sorry, I—” _I won’t do it again,_ she had wanted to say. But she already knew she couldn’t keep that promise. Roland was alive, but who knew for how long.

She suspected she’d be doing many more stupid things before this was over.


	6. And the Storm Descends, Part 1

Amaya spent the following days in a stupor, numb to the bone and distant towards the Straw Hats. After Chopper had patched her up again, she had returned to the _Scarlet Storm_ to pay her respects to her crew. Kneeling by each one, she drew her hands over their faces, closing their eyes for the last time. She did not cry—not at first. But as she stood on the deck of the Sunny and watched from afar, she could not halt the steady stream of tears when Luffy set the flaming torch to the wood.

The _Scarlet Storm_ went up quickly, the lacquered wood and tarred ropes feeding the hungry flames. Luffy landed beside her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but she barely felt it. She could only watch as everything she knew, everything she loved was consumed by fire and smoke.

The second Chopper had given her the all clear to leave the infirmary, Amaya retreated to the crow’s nest, where she would sit for hours, clutching her journal to her chest. The Straw Hats had retrieved her belongings for her before they had sent the ship to its grave. Until that day, she had been longing to write in her journals again, but now she could do nothing but hold them, taking comfort in the smooth leather of the cover, the crisp white of the pages.

She couldn’t write. Not yet. Not when her mind was in such turmoil.

She sat like that for three days. The others left her alone during that time save for Chopper checking her wound and Sanji with her meals and for that she was grateful. Even Zoro let her be, though she knew she was imposing on his space. And so for three days she sat and she thought as she watched the endless sea roll by outside the windows, and on the fourth day, finally, she wrote.

She wrote through the day and well into the night, all the things she had been too afraid to say out loud, all the things she could not possibly let herself think for fear of them coming true. She wrote how much she missed Roland and a promise that she would find him and when, finally, she put her pen aside and stretched her cramped fingers, she found she had filled almost every page of a blank journal.

She fell asleep like that, journal splayed open in her lap and her head in her arms, exhausted after pouring her heart out onto the pages. 

The sky had only just begun to lighten on the horizon, deep purple bleeding into grey when she was shaken awake rather harshly.

“Oi,” a voice called, pulling her out of a dream she could not quite remember her, but weighed on her mind like a heavy fog. “You okay?”

Amaya blinked up at the blurry face hanging over her and realised there were tears in her eyes. She was shaking, a thin film of cold sweat clinging to her forehead and the back of her neck. “Huh?” she said sleepily as Zoro’s green hair came into focus.

“You were crying out in your sleep.”

Suddenly she found herself very awake, hastily wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Oh. Sorry if I woke you.”

Zoro grunted. “I’m on late watch, don’t worry about it.”

An awkward silence fell between the two of them, but rather than leaving again, Zoro hovered uncertainly by the entrance.

“Did you, uh… need something?” Amaya asked.

“Oh. I was gonna train, I just… didn’t expect you to be here.”

Amaya jumped up from her seat, gathering her journal and writing utensils to her chest. “Right! Sorry, I’ll get out of your way.” She was halfway to the exit when Zoro stopped her, much to her surprise.

“Wait,” he said, and she could tell he was struggling with something. “You—you can stay. If you want.”

Amaya bit her lip, pausing at the open hatch to the ladder. Standing this close to him, she could see a faint blush on his cheeks. She hadn’t known him for long, but it seemed strangely unlike him. Maybe he just pitied her. “If it’s alright with you.”

He blinked, clearly not expecting her to agree but recovered quickly, puffing up his chest and folding his arms. “Just so long as you don’t get in my way.”

“You won’t even know I’m here.”

He nodded resolutely and she returned to her seat on the circular bench, drawing her knees up to her chest and flipping open her journal again. True to her word, she barely uttered a sound and when Zoro next looked up at her (which he found himself doing often) from in between sets of one-handed push ups, he found her fast asleep.

Amaya would not remember Zoro carrying her down from the crow’s nest and back to her bed in the infirmary. She would not remember the way his eyes lingered on the words written over and over in the last page of her journal, on the sketches of who he could only guess was her lost captain. And she would not see his secret smile at the tiny sketch—in the smallest corner of the very last page—of him, his cocky grin captured perfectly in graphite.

It was late into the morning when she woke in her bed to the cry of: “land-ho!”

Blinking away sleep, she sat up slowly, wincing as the pain in her side reminded her where she was. But… Her eyes shot open. She didn’t remember falling asleep here. She remembered being up in the crow’s nest with… An uncontrollable blush spread across her face as she realised Zoro must have carried her to her bed. And then panic set in.

She cast her eyes around wildly for her journal, then relaxed as she spotted it sitting on the bedside table. It appeared untouched, though she wondered if Zoro’s curiosity had possessed him to take a peek inside. She had not forbidden any of the Straw Hats to look through the journals in the trunk at the end of her bed, but it seemed to go unspoken between them that they were for her eyes only.

She picked up the book and flicked to the last page, heart sinking at the desperate words scrawled beneath an almost perfect rendering of Roland. She’d had trouble the night before with the finer details of his likeness and it had scared her. She had to find him, and fast.

Amaya looked up as Chopper entered the medical bay and she hastily snapped the journal shut.

“We’ll hit land by mid-afternoon. As long as you’re still healing up nicely, you can go ashore if you want.”

Amaya looked at the journal on the bed. “It would be nice to buy some more writing supplies,” she mused.

“Let’s get that wound redressed then and you can come with us!”

The sun had reached and long passed its peak when the Sunny final anchored off the docks of the island. Despite the late afternoon hour, the streets of the small town on the coast were buzzing with people as the perused the market stalls. 

“Ah, perfect,” said Sanji, eyes lighting up at the numerous food stalls on offer. “We need to replenish our food stocks. Amaya-chan, would you care to join me?” He offered his arm to her.

She giggled, drawing the attention of Zoro as she took Sanji’s arm. Zoro’s heated gaze on the back of the cook’s head went unnoticed, however, as the two stepped off the ship and made their way up the main street.

Amaya looked around admiringly at everything that was on offer as Sanji chatted in her ear about recipes and spices and how he had to buy a second lock for the refrigerator because one just wasn’t enough to keep out the hungry raging beast that was their captain. She found herself smiling for the first time in days since the funeral as she drew in the scents and the sounds. Sanji was pointing out a stall selling handmade leather-bound journals when she caught a flash of red from the corner of her eye. The chatter of the crowd seemed to die down as she turned her head to catch whatever had drawn her attention and her heart almost stopped. 

He was only there for a second—a fleeting face in the crowd that could have easily been a case of mistaken identity. But it was enough that hope flared up in her chest again and before she knew what she was doing, she was pushing her way through the throng of people, ignoring Sanji as he called her name after her.

As the crowd thinned around her, she cast her eyes around desperately for something, anything. She was rewarded with a flash of red coat tails as they disappeared up the alley between two stores. Heart pounding, she followed them then came to an abrupt stop as she came face to face with a tall figure, half hidden in the shadows of the alley. He stepped forward slightly, a sliver of sunlight falling across his face.

Amaya gasped.

_“Roland!”_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is just a courtesy notice to let you all know that I will be going overseas on holiday very soon and so will be on hiatus until the 3rd of March :) So please don't panic if I'm a little quiet! I don't know how much access to internet I will have yet and I doubt I will get time to write since my schedule is pretty packed ^^'
> 
> I will return to updating regularly in March :) Thank you for your patience!


	7. And the Storm Descends, Part 2

Roland Dalzeel was in imposing man. Seven foot four and wrapped in sinewy muscle, he towered over Amaya’s scant five feet and four inches. One blue green eye burned from beneath a heavy brow, the other hidden behind an eye patch where the edges of a nasty scar peeked out. His heavily stubbled face was surrounded by wild, ginger hair tied back in a messy ponytail. If anyone else had met this man in a dark alley such as this one, they would be saying their prayers right about now. But not Amaya.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. It was Roland. _Her Roland_. He looked a little worse for wear, long hair knotted and escaping its confines, and there were blood stains on his clothes, but he appeared to otherwise be unharmed. She started forward, but something made her hesitate. A nagging voice at the back of her mind was screaming at her to turn and run because there was something about the man that stood before her that felt _wrong_ somehow. Why was he just standing there? Why hadn’t he said anything?

Her Roland would have run to her and wrapped her up in his arms in a bruising bear hug, her Roland would have flashed her that crooked grin she loved so much and ruffled her hair with one large hand. Her Roland would have apologised with the very first words out of his mouth for not finding her sooner.

This was not her Roland, at least, not the one she knew.

“Maya,” he said, in a voice that was so unlike his it made her heart ache. “You need to get out of here.”

His words echoed those he’d said to her back on the _Scarlet Storm_. This time, they weren’t demanding, but pleading. It wasn’t like Roland to beg, but the look in his eye was something she had never seen before, so devoid of his usual cocky confidence. That look was fear.

“Roland,” she said around the lump in her throat. “You’re alive. God, you’re _alive_.”

He looked pained. “That’s not a good thing, Maya.”

“Why?”

“Because I led them straight to you.”

“What are you talking ab—?”

There was a loud _crack_ and pain exploded across the back of her head. Her vision was swimming and she had the strange feeling the ground was moving closer. She had only a moment to realise she wasn’t imagining it before she fell face first into the dirt and blacked out, Roland’s name on her lips.

She came to in darkness and for a long time she wondered if she was even awake at all. She couldn’t tell which was up, whether she was lying or sitting, what time it was, even whether her eyes were open or closed. There was only blackness and a faint niggling thought at the back of her mind that was trying to get her attention, but her brain was too foggy to pay it much mind.

But eventually, the pain set in—a dull ache at the back of her head that throbbed in time with the beating of her heart—and she started to knit the broken memories back together.

She sat bolt upright in her chair—for now she was aware that she was tied to a chair, wrists bound to the armrests and ankles to the legs—and strained her eyes at the gloom around her. If she focused hard enough, she could make out the faint shape of barrels, crates, and the faintest traces of light filtering through the gaps in the wooden plants in the ceiling overhead. Below her, she could feel a slight rocking and she concluded she must have been on a ship. It seemed to be anchored but whether it was docked or at sea, she couldn’t tell. 

She began to panic at the thought of being stranded far out to sea, no way of letting the Straw Hats know where she was no way of helping herself. She glanced down quickly to confirm she was indeed unarmed. Not that her bo-shuriken would help her in her current situation. She could pick a lock easy enough, but ropes were another story.

Movement to her right caught her eye and she whipped her head around, eyes searching the darkness for the source. A hulking shadow shifted in the blackness and the clanking of chains reached her ears. There was only one person she knew who could cast a shadow like that.

“…Roland?” she queried hesitantly.

“Maya?” came his voice and she was relieved to find that he sounded more like himself again. “You’re awake, thank god. Are you hurt?”

“Killer headache, but I’m alive and kicking. Are you okay?”

“Been better,” he grunted and his chains clanked loudly. “Sea stone.”

Amaya’s initial delight at being reunited with her captain was fading fast. Her weapons were useless and now so was Roland’s power. Freedom was beginning to look further and further out of reach. 

“Where are we?”

She heard him move and assumed he had just tried to shrug, but seemed to realise she couldn’t see him because his gruff reply came not a second later.

“Ship’s hold, I assume. They keep my blindfolded whenever they move me. I wouldn’t have a clue where we’re anchored, or even if we still _are_.”

“What the hell do they want with us? Roland… I saw the _Scarlet_. They killed everyone.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry. I failed you all.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she reassured him. “Why did they spare you?”

“I was the bait, Maya, why else? Damn it, you shouldn’t have come after me. It was you they wanted all along.”

Roland’s words rang familiar. Amaya’s eyes widened in realisation.

“Bait… That’s right.”

“What’s wrong?”

“We ran into one of them on the _Scarlet_. He’d been left to die by his crew but he lived long enough to tell me I had something they wanted but… Roland, how can I give them what they want if I don’t even know what it is I’m supposed to have? They ransacked the entire ship looking for whatever it was.”

“I don’t know, Maya,” he said. He straightened suddenly, head cocked to the side as he listened intently to something Amaya’s own ears couldn’t pick up. “But it looks like we might find out soon. Chin up. we’ll get through this.”

Amaya could hear it now too, the steady thud of heavy boots on the deck overhead There was an ominous creak of rusty hinges and a latch opened somewhere, orange late afternoon sunlight streaming into the hold. Temporarily blinded, Amaya flinched away from the light as a group of figures filed in one after the after. The latch was slammed shut and the hold was once again thrown into darkness.

“The elusive little mouse finally took the bait,” a cruel voice echoed. There was the striking of a match, and a warm yellow light filled the hold. It was gentler than the sunlight from outside, but it still made Amaya’s eyes sting and water.

Blinking away tears, she turned her head in the direction of the voice. A figure swam into focus flanked by two others. In her mind’s eye, she matched each of their faces with those of three of the men who had attacked the _Scarlet Storm_.

“You,” she hissed, ropes groaning as she balled her hands into fists. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Maya,” Roland warned and she deflated slightly, but her gaze didn’t waver as she looked the man before her in the eye.

The man laughed, his jowls shaking grossly. “Ooh, she’s feisty one. Maybe more of a kitten than a mouse.” He pulled something from the inside of his coat. “I’d like to see you try, kitten. Not so scary without your claws.”

He held up her holsters, the two-dozen bo-shuriken glinting in the firelight. He drew one carefully from its sheath and turned it this way and that between his fingers. 

“Pretty little things, aren’t they?” he said and she glared up at him. “But I won’t be fooled. I know how deadly they can be. In the right hands, of course.”

“Get your filthy fingers off them.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Kitten’s got a nice growl. But you’re not scaring anyone trussed up all pretty like that.” He leaned down and slowly pressed the point of the bo-shuriken to her pulse point below her ear, dragging it slowly downwards to rest in the hollow of her throat between her collarbones. “You have something I want. And you’re going to tell me where it is, or this kitten is going to get a taste of its own claws.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He sighed, pressing the shuriken point deeper into her skin until she felt a bead of ruby blood well up and slide down her chest. “I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

“I won’t let you lay a hand on her,” came Roland’s low growl. In any other situation, the sound would have had these men trembling in their boots, but the man only laughed and turned back to Amaya, releasing the pressure and twirling the shuriken artfully between two fingers.

“Your boyfriend was quite the nuisance, you know. But I suppose he’s done his job. We’ll even let you watch us kill him when we’re done here.”

Rage bubbled up inside Amaya’s chest. These men had taken everything from her, and now they were trying to take Roland too? Not while she still lived and breathed. She spat in the man’s face, landing his square in the eye.

He howled as he fell back and slapped a hand to his face, her bo-shuriken clattering to the floor and rolling away out of sight somewhere to her right. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Roland snatch it up, quickly concealing it in his sleeve while the men were distracted.

“You bitch!” the man roared, pulling another shuriken from its holster and darting forward.

Amaya cried out as searing pain shot up her arm and her fingers curled in on themselves. She was faintly aware of Roland calling her name, but she barely heard him through the sound of blood rushing in her ears. Through the blinding pain, she looked down and saw her hand, bloodied and shaking violently, impaled on her own shuriken. She tried to lift it, but the pain almost made her pass out so she kept as still as possible, chest heaving as a cold sweat sprung up on her forehead.

The man before her tutted. “Looks like our kitten won’t be using those claws for a while. Now,” he dragged a wooden chair out from somewhere behind him and set it in front of her, settling his massive weight down onto it. It creaked in protest. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

Amaya could barely lift her head and she was trying very hard not to vomit all over the man’s shoes. She didn’t fancy losing the use of her right hand as well.

“Eight years ago, you stole something from us. We want it back. Are you going to tell us where it is…?” 

He twirled the bo-shuriken ominously.

“Or are we going to have to force it out of you?”


	8. Obsidian Sky

Zoro yawned widely as he looked up at the darkening sky. By the looks of those clouds, the others would be back soon. He doubted Nami would want to risk the possibility of being caught on the island in the midst of a storm—not when he’d spied a Marine ship in the distance not too long ago. No, it was better they set sail as soon as possible, before the seas made it impossible.

A crack of lighting flashed overhead, followed by a deep roll of thunder. He thought he caught the sound of a voice amongst the rumbling, and he stood up from his spot against the mast, peering down at the docks. Sanji was running towards the ship in a state of extreme distress.

“Oi, moss head!” he called. “Has Amaya-chan come back here?”

“Haven’t seen her,” Zoro grunted back. 

Sanji swore, extinguishing the burnt down stub of his cigarette and immediately reaching into his pocket for a new one. He always chain smoked when he was stressed, which quite honestly was most of the time when you had a captain like Luffy. But Zoro hadn’t seen him like this since Robin had been taken by CP9. He watched Sanji take a long drag to calm himself, then exhale slowly.

“She just walked off like she was possessed or something,” Sanji said, his eyes trained on the glowing end of the cigarette. “I tried to follow her, but… by the time I got through the crowd, she was gone.” He took another drag. “I’m worried. Remember what that pirate said? They’re after her for whatever reason.”

“You don’t think…?”

Thunder rumbled overhead again and Zoro looked up just in time to catch a raindrop square between the eyes. A sudden feeling of unease overcame him and a hand dropped unconsciously to his katana. Sanji glanced up too, the furrow lines in his brow deepening with worry at the sight.

“Shit… We need to get out of here or we’re gonna be stuck on this island until the storm blows over. We have to find Amaya-chan!”

Zoro nodded, launching over the side of the Sunny and landing effortlessly on the dock below. “Let’s go.”

They split up when they reached the market, the crowds starting to disperse and the vendors packing away their stalls with the promise of the storm. Sanji left in search of Luffy and the others to fill them in on the situation, while Zoro kept his eyes peeled for any flash of a red hoodie, any streak of ashen hair.

Sanji shoved a Den Den Mushi into Zoro’s hand. “Call if you find anything.” And then he was lost to the crowd.

People milled around Zoro, rushing home before they found themselves caught in the impending downpour. Through the commotion, a flash of silver caught his attention—gone fast enough that even he began to wonder if he had been imagining things. Until he saw it again out of the corner of his eye, so quick he would have missed it if he hadn’t already been looking for it. Two men stood in the street, talking and gazing up at the darkening sky with furrowed brows. Between his fingers, one of them twirled a silver object, long and thin with a pointed end. It could have easily been mistaken for a pen, maybe a screwdriver, but Zoro recognised it as a throwing dart—the exact same kind Amaya used.

He immediately ducked behind the nearest building and peered around the corner. His hand caressed the hilt of Wado Ichimonji. If he played his cards right, these men would lead him right to Amaya. All he had to do was stay out of sight.

A clap of thunder sounded overhead, too close for comfort, and a brisk wind had picked up. The last of the street vendors wrestled with their stalls against the gale. The men exchanged a few words, then took off in a hurry down the street. 

Zoro waited a few moments before following, darting through the shadows between buildings, timing his footfalls with the rolls of thunder to mask the sound of his approach. He had to stick closer to the men than he would have liked—they swerved and turned at seemingly random through the maze of houses, all shuttered against the storm—but he kept as much distance as he could. But all too soon, he ran out of houses to hide behind when he found himself on a wide-open beach. He was bound on both sides by a towering cliff face and the choppy grey ocean.

He cursed under his breath and dropped to the ground amongst the sparse scrub, watching the men draw further and further away up the beach. They reached the cliff face, paused briefly to cast their eyes over the empty coast, and then simply… disappeared.

“What the hell?”

He laid low for a few more moments to make sure they weren’t going to reappear again, before rising into a low crouch. He crept forward, grateful for the soft sand beneath his boots that absorbed the sound of his footsteps. He approached the cliff cautiously, already thumbing the guard of his sword in preparation to draw at a moment’s notice. 

As he drew closer, a large fissure in the face of the cliff became more evident, invisible from a distance, but up close it was just wide enough for him to slide in sideways. He peered inside. It was dark, but he could see the faint pattern of light reflecting off water on the walls. He pulled back, his heart suddenly pounding with adrenaline, and fished in his pocket for the portable Den Den Mushi. Sanji answered on the first ring.

“It’s me. I followed some guys to the beach. There’s a passage through the cliff face, looks like a cave behind it. I’m going in.”

He hung up before Sanji could protest, dropping the snail back into his pocket and drawing Ichimonji—there wouldn’t be space to draw it once he was inside the tunnel. Steeling his nerves, he slipped in between the jagged edges of the opening, ignoring the way the rock scraped and pressed at his back, and forged onwards, sword held out in front of him. 

When he stepped out, he found himself in a hidden cove, bound on three sides by sheer rock and the open sea to his back. A ship painted in Marine colours was anchored at the dock, but it would only pass as a Marine vessel from a distance or to a severely untrained eye. It was clear these men did not work for the World Government. And he would bet his left eye Amaya was on that ship.

The men Zoro had followed were preparing to board, and even from this distance Zoro could see their lips moving. He saw the man with the bo-shuriken very clearly mouth “ _we were followed_ ” and look straight at him, his wide mouth curving into a wicked smirk. Zoro cursed. It was too late to hide now. He gripped Wado Ichimonji tightly in one hand while drawing Kitetsu with the other. It was times like these he felt the loss of Yubashiri the most. He would have to make do.

Feet pounded against the dock and he found himself suddenly vastly outnumbered. He took a breath, gritted his teeth and threw himself wholeheartedly into the fray. 

Steel sang and blood splattered against the rocks as he fought his way to the ship, but it seemed that for every man he cut down, two more would take his place, slowing his progress. It wasn’t until the fourth fell that Zoro realised they didn’t seem to be intent on killing him. They were stalling for time—time enough for the others to escape with the ship and Amaya. He saw the gang plank pull away from the dock, the anchor dragged up from the depths. The men still blocked his path to the dock and no matter how hard he pushed, he could not get through. Then he heard it—the sound of hope echoing through the cove.

“Oi! Zoro!”

Zoro grinned. “You sure took your time, Captain.”

“Shut it, Marimo!” Sanji’s voice joined Luffy’s. “If you had waited for us in the first place instead of rushing in like an idiot, we wouldn’t need to rescue you!”

Zoro snorted. “I don’t need _rescuing_ , shit head!”

“Zoro, the ship!”

Zoro whirled at the sound of Robin’s voice just in time to see the ship start to pull away from the dock. He swore colourfully and cut down two men only to have his path blocked by two more. He growled, backing up slightly as they started to close in on him.

“ _Gomu Gomu no…_ ”

Zoro launched himself out of the way as Luffy suddenly came barrelling past, ploughing through the wall of enemies and knocking them down like dominoes. Robin followed up with her Hana Hana no Mi, the men that were still conscious after Luffy’s barrage watching in horror as arms sprouted from the ground like flowers, wrapping tight around their necks and strangling them into submission until they lay still on the ground.

“We need to get on that ship,” Zoro roared, sheathing his swords as he pounded down the dock, the ship already almost at the mouth of the cove.

“Go!” called Robin. “Sanji and I can handle the rest.”

“Zoro, hold on!” Luffy’s arms shot past Zoro’s head and latched onto the ship’s bulwark. “Gomu Gomu no Rocket!”

Zoro didn’t need to be told twice. They landed heavily on the deck, Zoro rolling once to break his fall. They were immediately greeted with more men, wickedly curved cutlasses glinting as a crack of lightning split the sky. The skies seemed to open up and a heavy rain began to fall, drenching them to the bone within seconds.

Zoro drew his swords. Luffy raised his fists.

“Now, let’s get Maya back.”


	9. Let it Rain

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Roland couldn’t tell what was causing the noise through the gloom, but he suspected it was blood—Amaya’s blood. The captain had left an hour ago, extinguishing the candle and plunging them back into darkness once more. Amaya had lost consciousness as some point during the interrogation and no matter how hard he tried, Roland could not rouse her. He had feared the worst until he caught the sound of her breath, so faint it was barely there, but steady.

He cursed as, once again, the bo-shuriken slipped from his fingers. He had been trying in vain to pick the lock on his cuffs with the dropped shuriken he had managed to swipe without the captain noticing, but the sea stone around his wrists had left him shaking badly and his large hands were far too clumsy for something so delicate. He needed Amaya, but she remained unconscious, even as a peal of thunder roared overhead.

The ship seemed to lurch under Roland’s feet, and he cursed again as the movement made him lose his grip on the throwing dart. It clattered to the ground, rolling away across the floor. He lunged for it, just managing to catch it before it escaped out of reach of his tethers.

The ship was rocking noticeably harder now, and as it lurched again, realisation suddenly struck him. The ship was leaving the harbour. Once they were out at sea, their chances of escape would drop to zero. Not for the first time in his life, he cursed his Devil Fruit powers. If it came to it, he could at least cause a diversion so that Amaya could escape again, but that was relying on the unlikely chance that she would be in any condition to swim—or was even conscious at the time. And they certainly weren’t going anywhere as long as those cuffs bound him.

Another peal of thunder.

Roland froze. Was that thunder? Or was it…

Cries of alarm drifted into the cargo hold from the deck above and motes of dust streamed from between the planks as they shifted under the weight of many pairs of boots. He heard the crash of steel on steel, the thump of bodies hitting the deck and their cries of pain.

As far as Roland knew, there was no one left to look for him and Amaya. They were the very last of the Red Rain Pirates—a thought that wrenched at his heart. He could only assume it was the Marines above them, and he was _not_ about to trade his handcuffs for a cell in Impel Down.

He redoubled his efforts on the cuffs, swearing through gritted teeth until, finally, he heard that satisfying _click_ of the lock releasing, and felt the sudden flood of energy returning to his limbs as the sea stone slipped from his wrists. He closed his eye, only letting himself revel in his victory for a moment before he was by Amaya’s side, working at the ropes binding her arms and legs.

He felt the fatigue from the sea stone still fighting him as he reached for his powers, the nails of one hand lengthening and sharpening into claws. It was all he could manage for the time being, but it was enough. He slashed easily around the ropes around her legs and was about to start on her arms when he heard the hatch to the deck open.

Light flooded into the hold and Roland only had a moment to find a hiding spot behind a large crate before heavy footsteps started down the stairs.

Hidden in the shadows, Roland could see the man clearly—well-built, green hair covered by a black bandana, and three golden earrings glinting in his ear. He wielded a katana is each hand and a third remained sheathed at his waist. He didn’t look like any Marine Roland had ever seen, but one could never be too careful.

The man sheathed his swords upon deeming the hold was clear of enemies, and upon spotting Amaya, rushed to her side. The second his back was turned, Roland took the opportunity to strike.

Moving far more silently than a man his size should be able to (a trick he had learned from Amaya), Roland waited until he was right behind the stranger before pressing the point of the bo-shuriken to the stranger’s throat.

The man froze.

“Who are you and what do you want with her?” Roland snarled.

“I’m here to help her.” The man’s voice was oddly calm for someone who had a deadly object pointed right at his jugular.

“Your name.”

“Roronoa Zoro.”

The point of the shuriken dug harder into the skin. “The bounty hunter?” Roland growled. “This is an awful lot of work for just 25 million Beli.”

“I’m not a bounty hunter anymore.” Zoro’s hand twitched at his side.

“Turn around.”

Roland had been expecting it—the ring of steel as Zoro drew his blade and whirled into a strike aimed right for Roland’s neck. He had not, however, anticipated just how fast the swordsman was, and barely had time to call upon his Busoshoku Haki to block the attack with his forearm before it took his head clean off.

As they were locked in a struggle, Roland’s strength rapidly fading thanks to the lingering effects of the sea stone, Zoro’s eyes widened suddenly in recognition.

“Wait, you’re…” He stepped back, sheathing his sword once more, though his thumb remained ready to release it again at a moments notice should he need it. “We’ve been looking for you. _Amaya’s_ been looking for you.”

Roland blinked and lowered his guard. Then a toothy grin spread across his face. “Well, it seems my reputation precedes me. Maya has only said good things, I hope?”

Zoro smirked. “Only the best. Good to finally meet you, Roland Dalzeel.”

The two men shook, sizing each other up, then turned to the matter at hand.

“We’ll have time for proper introductions later, we need to leave. Now.” 

Zoro drew his sword and easily cut through the remaining bonds tethering Amaya to the chair. She slumped forward in her seat, still unconscious. Roland was growing more worried with every passing second, even more so now he could see the extent of the damage the captain had done to her. Carefully, Zoro extracted the bo-shuriken that had impaled her hand to the wood and removed his own bandana, wrapping it tightly around her palm to staunch the blood flow. Roland felt a twinge of jealousy at the tender way this near stranger was handling his first mate.

As Zoro made to pick her up, Roland stopped him.

“Let me,” he said, before gently scooping the girl into his arms. He was relieved to find her still warm and breathing, though that would not be the case if they didn’t get her medical attention as soon as possible.

Zoro seemed to read Roland’s thoughts. “We have a doctor back at our ship. He’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

“We have to worry about getting there first.”

Zoro grinned. “No problem.”

Roland followed the swordsman out of the hold and onto the deck, his eye temporarily blinded as he stepped into the light, dim as it was. He took a moment to adjust to his surroundings. The ship was in some sort of hidden harbour, its sails almost brushing the stone ceiling of the cavern far above them as it drifted freely toward the mouth of the cavern. Roland had been blindfolded every time they needed him to leave the ship, but he recognised the scent of limestone and rotting seaweed from the endless moments spent blind and uncertain of his fate.

Outside, the wind howled and icy sheets of rain lashed at the ocean, sending the water in the cavern churning and the ship rocking violently.

“Luffy!” Zoro called out across the deck to a boy in a straw hat. “We have Maya, let’s go!”

The boy turned and grinned at Zoro, pummelling an enemy into the ground as he did so. “’Kay!”

“The ship is already too far from the dock and there’s not enough space to turn it around. How are we supposed to get off?”

Zoro only grinned at Roland. “Just watch.”

Luffy barrelled through a group of men, sending them scattering to the deck, and ran to the ship’s stern. Then, and Roland would have thought his only eyes was deceiving him had he not possessed a Devil Fruit himself, Luffy stretched back his arms, the limbs extending as if they were elastic until Roland could reach out and touch one right in front of his face despite the two being a whole ship’s length apart. But before he could even consider it, the arms shot forward like a rocket, extending across the harbour to wrap securely around a wooden post on the dock.

Luffy braced his feet on the railing, and pulled with all his might. There was a long, agonising moment where it seemed like his ploy would be fruitless, and then the ship stopped dead in the water, then slowly, _slowly_ , it began to move backwards toward the dock, pulled through the water by this strange, elastic boy, its sails groaning and protesting the whole way.

“Incredible…” Roland mused.

“That’s our captain,” Zoro grinned. “Let’s go.” He drew his swords and began cutting a path through the panicked men towards the stern. 

Roland followed close behind, shielding Amaya as best he could, but before they could reach Luffy, their path was blocked by the towering, quivering form of the captain. A strange static aura surrounded him, flickering along the edge of his sabre as he drew it.

He grinned. “Joker doesn’t take kindly to insurrection. Hand over the girl and you just may leave here alive.”

Roland steeled himself, glaring the captain down. “Zoro,” he said, eye still on the captain before him. “Take Amaya. I have a score to settle with this one.”

“But—”

“Just go! I know she’ll be in good hands.”

Zoro took Amaya from Roland’s arms, his heart aching as he recalled their last parting. She would hate him for this, he knew it. He smiled as he imagined her berating him for sending her away yet again, her comparatively small frame making the scolding more funny than intimidating. He would give anything to be scolded by her again.

When he looked back at Zoro again, the swordsman had already reached the stern and Roland breathed a sigh of relief to see Amaya safe and in capable hands. That same sigh caught in his throat when he noticed her stir, her dark eyes fluttering open to fix him with a puzzled stare.

Roland flashed her a sad grin and realisation dawned on her face, the look of betrayal in her eyes wrenching at his heart.

Before she could do anything to stop him, a flash of lightning illuminated the cavern, petrifying everything with blinding, blue light, and Roland used the distraction to transform. His roar shook the ship beneath his paws—seemed to shake the very cavern as stalactites crumbled from the ceiling into the churning sea below.

He was going to give this man a taste of why they called him 'Berserker'.

“ _I’ll show you what happens when you mess with my crew!_ ”


End file.
